


Lineage and Legacy

by therehavebeenworsenames



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: Rebels, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: A Happy (For Some) Ending, Also Satine Now Has a Plotline????, Alternate Universe, Anakin Needs Friends, Anakin Skywalker Needs a Hug, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dark, Emotional Manipulation, I Apparently Love Politics and Scheming, I Really Like Exploring Galaxy Wide Politics In The Integration Verse, I Will Be Spicing This With TCW and Rebels Characters, I Would Consider It Happy In The Same Way Integration Ends Happy, Jango May Collect the Whole Order By the End of This, Jango Suddenly Has Like A Thousand Kids But They've Already Adopted Obi-Wan, Jango and Obi-Wan and the Clones Are The Center But Also Like the Twilight of the Republic, Like Revenge of the Sith Epic Tragedy Vibes Are Strong, M/M, Mandalorian Culture, Manipulation, Manipulative Sheev Palpatine, My Outline Is Turning Into Game of Thrones-esque Complicated, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Obi-Wan Kenobi is a Mess, POV Multiple, Padawan Anakin Skywalker, Politics, Sith Empire, Slow Build, The Droid Wars Is Now What I'm Calling What Is About To Happen, The Kids Are Safe Though, This Is Escalating More Quickly Than I Or Obi-Wan Planned, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, Which Is Dark AF To The Reader, With Bonus Clones and Bonus Jedi, Worldbuilding For Profit and Pleasure, Your Gonna Suffer But You'll Like It
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-02-26 17:11:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23567128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therehavebeenworsenames/pseuds/therehavebeenworsenames
Summary: Set in "Integration" Universe.Obi-Wan, on the brink, turns to the Republic's enemy, the Mand'alor Jango Fett to save the lives of innocents. He does not suspect to survive the encounter. Nor the escalating series of events that follow it.
Relationships: Aayla Secura & Anakin Skywalker, Jango Fett & Clone Troopers, Jango Fett/Obi-Wan Kenobi, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Clone Troopers
Comments: 324
Kudos: 1230
Collections: Favorite Rereads, Integration: The Collection





	1. prologue: a just republic and other lies the masters told

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Millberry_5](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Millberry_5/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Integration](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11920878) by [Millberry_5](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Millberry_5/pseuds/Millberry_5). 

It is Obi-Wan who discovers the facilities. He is the one who meets the younglings, all with identical faces and the looks of one of the Republic’s greatest enemies. 

It is Obi-Wan the Kaminoans tell of the “failed batches” and “disposals” as the younglings, _ younglings not products_, rush to get in formation to get a glimpse of a Jedi. He can feel their eagerness and how they stare at him with a tremulous mix of awe, fear, and a painful hope. 

It is Obi-Wan who smiles as inside he shatters and wants to bare his teeth.

It is Obi-Wan who stares at the children that the Republic purchased to die.

It is Obi-Wan who has always believed in the Republic and the good it could do and feels betrayed.

It is Obi-Wan who was raised to obey and protect and _serve_.

It is Obi-Wan who remembers the values of the Jedi and what they are meant to be, the protectors and peacekeepers for all they have been soldiers for so very long.

It is Obi-Wan who remembers his Master’s defiance and skirting around edicts to do what is right and follow the Living Force.

It is Obi-Wan who is so much closer to the Unifying Force and feels it weighing heavily on his decision, one that could tip the scales, and feels how it will echo.

It is Obi-Wan who thinks of how he loves the Jedi Order, his family, how he will miss them, and how he must do what is right. 

It is Obi-Wan who closes his eyes and pictures their faces from memories as he whispers frantically to R4, messages he knows she will pass on.

It is Obi-Wan who meditates and carefully numbs the Bond between himself and Anakin, feeling the distress roiling up from his Padawan's side that he leaves, for the first time, unsoothed.

It is Obi-Wan who refuses to answer his comm when the messages start coming in from frantic Council Members.

It is Obi-Wan who asks if he may practice with the oldest cadets--five years old for all they look like they are between nine and ten--so he can see how they interact with Jedi.

It is Obi-Wan who learns their names, close kept secrets, for fear of punishment. And who memorizes each one with gentle care.

It is Obi-Wan who lingers in Kamino until he has met all of them and made sure they know what they are to do. Their orders which they are excited to obey. Their first mission from their General. And how that twists his stomach to see younglings looking up at him and call him General already tiny soldiers.

It is Obi-Wan who uses the old signal and codes the Republic learned two hundred years ago and trusts in the Force they will work.

It is Obi-Wan who does not flinch when he sees the Mandalorian ships descending.

It is Obi-Wan who sends R4 away then.

It is Obi-Wan who turns off the defenses the Kaminoans have.

It is Obi-Wan who sits with the cadets and assembled younglings, offering reassuring murmurs to the little ones who are trying their best to put on a brave face.

It is Obi-Wan whose stomach turns and his hands shake as he hears the screams and feels the fear of the Kaminoans and the towering rage of the Mandalorians as they head towards them a storm of death howling for blood.

It is Obi-Wan who quiets the fear of the children when the facility fills with explosions and blaster fire.

It is Obi-Wan who greets the _ Mand’alor._ He has memorized the armor now from watching the training videos the younglings learn from, full of footage from battles against Republic forces.

It is Obi-Wan who tells the children not to be afraid as they reach for him, muttering softly as he would to any crècheling, as he did to his Padawan.

It is Obi-Wan who steps forward to accept death as his penance for the lives he traded today so that these children could _ live._

It is Obi-Wan who is surprised when he is instead stabbed with a hypo by another Mandalorian.


	2. jango: like a horror from the past reborn

When the codes had first came through no one had believed them. 

The team that had received the message, a scout ship that had been testing Disputed Space along the Sith’s borders, had been forced to access their archives to translate. The codes hadn’t been used since a Jedi Knight had died transmitting them two hundred years prior. They'd given the Republic the edge necessary to secure most of the Mandalorian Mid-Rim holdings from that time. It had been a devastating loss and the Empire had spent the past two centuries recovering from it. The codes, once they discovered they’d been compromised, had been changed completely. Unless a Mandalorian had been out of touch with the Empire for the past two centuries there was no chance they would use it.

It had to be the Republic had been the argument. A trap of some kind that seemed to assume an insulting sort of stupidity. 

But the message itself was something no Mandalorian could ignore. The scouts under the insistence of the youngest soldier Sullex had sent a small team to investigate the planet it originated from. They had waited two rotations before the team returned pale with utter fury, confirming the message’s legitimacy. After that they had left their original mission to return to the center of the Mandalore Sector itself. Each outpost they passed was alerted and by the time they’d arrived to stand before Jango the rage was swelling and the entire empire wanted blood.

_ Demagolka. Ade ehn’eta’olan. Tegaan linibar. _

Demagolka, a nightmare story that every Mandalorian knew and no one would use it lightly. When Sullex finished telling Jango what had been seen in the facilities he could taste the blood on his mouth and Effao had to send the exhausted soldier away. His Council had raised the idea of it being a trap, but it was half-hearted. He could see Effao, furious and heavily pregnant with her first child, looked ready to rip his heart out and challenge him for leadership at the slightest hint of not heeding it. Threl would probably have helped her. 

No one had protested when he called for the recall and redeployment for a full planetary campaign. With no quarter or call for terms. Satine Kryze had looked sick after the full report had been submitted and even more shocked when she was left temporarily in charge with a furious Effao. Jango didn’t have time to sooth either of them. Effao was not going on an active campaign so late in her term and Satine had shown herself experienced enough with the more finicky policy making for all she was not his inner circle. They would hold the sector together while he was absent.

And then he focused on the preparations. Volunteers came pouring in, snapping and enraged. The entire Empire swelled with bloodlust and the battles currently being fought were ended swiftly and mercilessly or abandoned without question. Jango knew the Sith and Republic were likely reeling from the sudden abrupt departure, but he couldn’t close his eyes without Sullex’s words repeating over and over, his voice trembling with the effort to keep steady.

(“_They were being _ dissected _‘Alor,” the young soldier had been shaking and Jango couldn’t fault him. Jango was shaking more and more with every word, the world seeming to shrink and his ears rang. “I couldn’t stay but there were rooms filled with more, hundreds and hundreds, waiting to be born into that _haran.”)

The planet was as expected and there was no warning volley or alert given. The security was laughable and the long-necked natives didn’t seem to know what to do when the warships descended. Jango stopped really thinking at that point, allowing instinct and rage to guide him. Foolish, and enough for Suki to jerk him aside before one of the Kaminoans, who had been slow to rally to their own defense, got in a lucky shot. It helped calm him and they led the charge against the facility as the forces secured the city. 

It had been unarmed, shields and alarms turned off, undefended and unalerted to the invasion. Jango noted it and how as they made their way through the only ones they found were the doctors. There was no challenge in getting rid of them, only a dark satisfaction. It wasn’t until they got to the center of the facility, sealed and refusing the entrance of one of the doctors did they find the children. The slicer barely took any time to break through, as if they’d been expected.

When he entered, Jango’s breath had caught. Thousands._Thousands _ of children. All identical, looking back at him with his own eyes. From the ages three to ten they were formed into neat sections, the youngest carefully guarded and secured in the middle. The room itself was filled with towering rows of tubes containing _ fetuses. _ He’d heard the story, but it was different to see with his own eyes. Children from his bloodline, the only remaining blood family he had left, massacred, experiments of the _ sainted moralizing Republic_.

The others came to a sharp stop beside him, seemingly also shocked by the room. The children looked at them wide eyed, but keeping a careful formation, that was almost military. And then movement started from the center and Jango saw _ them._ The _ jetii._

For a moment the blood went to his head and Jango wasn’t a person. He was a creature of rage and vengeance and a hate he hadn’t felt since his adopted father had died in front of him. He wanted to kill the jetii, he would, he would rip them apart with his pair hands and _ eat their kriffing heart _-

And then he saw the children. They reached out toward the _ jetii_, looked at them for comfort, reached up and touched them as they passed. They were moving towards the Mandalorians, not defending, but body language open in obvious surrender. The _ jetii _only stopped to whisper to the children, touching them with a reverent gentleness and reassuring them as they got closer. Near the edge the _ jetii _looked up and Jango recognized him.

Obi-Wan Kenobi was rather young, but already a General and famous for succeeding in missions that should be impossible. The recently dubbed _ Negotiator_. Looking at Jango with a quiet sort of dignity and certainty. 

Jango’s breath stilled and his mind raced as Kenobi stopped at the edge of the children, one of the older ones looking ready to stop him, grabbing the hem of his sleeve, looking at the Mandalorians distrustfully. Jango couldn’t hear, but he could see the softness in Kenobi’s expression, the unhidden affection as he reached out and petted the dark hair of the _ Mandalorian _ child with a soft smile and then turned to walk into what his expression showed he knew to be death.

And it should be. Finding one of the Republic’s loyal attack dogs in a facility condoning _ this_? Jango should be personally killing him. Had wanted to. But he was not blind and the facts were lining up quickly. A code centuries out of date stolen by a _ jetii_. The children tucked safely out of harm’s way. The _ shield’s turned off_. Kenobi had betrayed the Republic’s secret. Had bet on the adages of Mandalorian culture to guarantee the children’s safety. Had signed his own death warrant.

For _ Mandalorian children. _

For the first time in days Jango’s rage was eclipsed by something else. _ Want._ He wanted Kenobi for the Empire so badly it left him breathless. This was an act out of a legend. Kenobi was _ mandokarla_.

Jango’s fingers were forming familiar signs at Suki without a further thought. Kenobi was focused on him and gave him an almost rueful smile as he spoke.

“Greetings _ Mand’alor_,” the man’s voice was softer than he expected and curled around the Mando’a strangely gently. Everything about the man seemed soft, worn along the edges. His eyes were tired, but not sad, calm in the face of death. His hand didn’t even brush his lightsaber. He was focused entirely on Jango, blue eyes meeting his visor.

“Take care of them.” There was something, not pleading, but honest and raw in the face of the sacrifice Kenobi was stepping forward to offer himself as. A _ jetii _and an entire planet’s blood for the lives of children.

Jango gestured, a quick demanding sign, and stepped forward to catch Kenobi as Suki struck him with a hypo from his peripheral. The room roared as the children shouted and Jango looked up to find a small army of tiny hims looking confused and vaguely murderous. The older ones, about a hundred, started snapping orders, led by the one who’d tried to stop Kenobi. The children obeyed with precision that shouldn’t be seen at their age, though the younger ones seemed more scared than anything, but quieted.

Jango considered Kenobi, pale and unconscious, dark bruised circles under his eyes visible from close up, auburn hair in disarray, and startlingly light. He barked a quick order and passed him off and then stood removing his helmet. The others followed suit and he saw the shock ripple through the children followed quickly by a mix of awe and fear.

The child that spoke, the leader he’d already noted, was focused on him. Those familiar dark eyes looked at him hatefully, but with obvious recognition and they stood at attention, stiff and determined as he approached.

“I am Jango Fett, he/him/his,” Jango said, bending down to one knee so he was eye-to-eye with the child. “May I have your name _ verd’ika_?”

The child’s face scrunched up, a moment of genuine confusion passing over their face, before they breathed out and their expression smoothed into something more neutral.

“CC-2224,” the child replied and after a moment of hesitation added, sounding uncertain. “He/him/his.”

There was cursing behind him at the _ designation_. And Jango could feel his own anger boiling up, but he kept a tight leash on it focused on the child.

“It is good to meet you CC-2224,” Jango repeated the designation carefully. “Did Kenobi explain what was going on to you or the others?”

CC-2224, Jango would need to think of names for the children, scowled as if he’d been insulted. 

“_General _ Kenobi,” CC-2224 said, emphasizing the title with obvious offence on the _ jetii’_s behalf. “Explained the mission to me and the other commander clones. We prepared the _vode _and evacuated as ordered.” Then the child hesitated, looking at them uncertainly, his professionalism faltering. “He-he said that reinforcements were coming to reassign us somewhere else for further training. Somewhere safe. Away from the long-necks.”

There was a heartbreaking amount of hope and trust in that and Jango swore then and there none of these children would want for anything. It did not matter what else he did for the Empire, these children freed under his rule would be safe and _ loved _ and the Republic would _ burn._

CC-2224 gave him a small glare as he continued. “We thought it would be the other _ jetiise_. Not the Prime and the Empire.”

The _ Mando’a _was unexpectedly almost perfectly pronounced but with an accent that was just slightly odd. More concerning was the obvious reverence emphasized on the word itself and the distrust directed at him and his people.

“Prime?” Jango asked, absorbing the details and filing them away to consider. CC-2224 looked at him dead in the eyes with an expression that Jango had only ever heard described to him. It was the look he gave when he thought he’d heard something particular idiotic and obvious.

“You,” the child said. “The Prime Clone.”

Jango nodded, and looked passed the child to the others, watching the conversation carefully, seemingly waiting for a decision to be made or looking passed them at the assembled group or maybe Kenobi. 

Jango felt confident as he looked back at CC-2224, a decision made as it had been from the moment he heard the news.

“CC-2224,” Jango said and the child straightened, seeming to pick up the change in his voice as he projected across the room and back to his people, who stood as witness. “_Ni kyr’tayl gai sa’ad. Gar bal an vode_.”

CC-2224 blinked, processing the words slowly and then just stared. Jango smiled at the child, as reassuring as he could. 

“We will take care of you and all your _ vode_,” Jango told him, firm and honest. “No one will touch any of you ever again. And if they try they will have the full might of the Mandalorian Empire by your side.”

CC-2224 looked thrown, eyes wide and mouth open, his calm clearly broken. He looked at Jango uncertain, a soft kind of hope in his eyes, but then something, movement perhaps, drew his eyes passed him. The child stared at whatever it was, his face hardening and met Jango’s eyes with a scowl, straightening up.

“And the General?”

There was something clearly protective mixed in between awe and an affection that Jango knew he would be unable to ignore. The surrounding children leaned forward, clearly interested in the answer as well, all with a similar expression of affection and concern.

Jango did not look back at Kenobi, though the want and the roaring to secure the man reared back up. Instead he reassured them.

“Kenobi will be coming with us, unharmed and, once he’s been settled, be free to visit you.”

He smiled at the shock and it widened even more at the excited shout from a smaller child that had shoved their way closer to them. CC-2224 turned back at that and frowned at the little one.

“_CC-5576,_” CC-2224 cut in, voice sharp and commanding. The younger clone looked for a moment like they would protest, but then glanced between them, blinked, and backed up presumably following the unspoken order.

Jango noted the dynamic for later and looked back at the child, who focused behind Jango a few moments before meeting his gaze.

“Thank you,” he said and then added. “_Mand’alor_.”

“Jango or _ buir _to you and your _vode_,” Jango corrected gently and CC-2224 nodded after a moment, not seeming to recognize '_buir_'. Jango would fix that. He would make sure all the children knew their history and learned what they needed. He would need to use something like an adjusted Integration program. He might be able to use the facilities for now. Until a more permanent residence could be established for the sudden influx of children.

Jango smiled at the idea and looked over his shoulder nodding for the others to approach. He could leave getting the children settled to the team he’d brought with him. As much as he wanted to stay and talk to them, see how different or similar they were to each other and himself, there were other things that required his attention. The children were secure and safe and the _jetii _was being taken.

Jango needed to go speak to the former Prime Minister about his people’s new status as a slave race. And find more details about what exactly had been done to _ Jango’s ade._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little shorter than my usual, but this will likely be a slow fic and I am planning quite a few points of view. A bit of Jango's side. More progress next chapter.
> 
> * Sullex - one of Obi-Wan's adult students from Integration, the soldier who goes into a healing trance
> 
> * Demagolka. Ade ehn’eta’olan. Tegaan linibar. - My terrible Mando'a attempt which basically translates to "Mad scientist experimenting on children. 3000 kids. Rescue needed." Demagol was an infamous doctor that experimented on children and is a symbol of true horror. Demagolka is basically a war criminal.
> 
> * Effao - Another OC from Integration, she jettisons the pods and is one of the funnest characters who happily teases Jango and becomes friends with Obi-Wan who is teaching her kid
> 
> * Haran - hell, literally destruction
> 
> * 'Alor - short for Mand'alor, literally sole ruler, the leader of all Mandalorians.
> 
> * jetii - Jedi
> 
> * Mandokarla - the state of being the epitome of Mando virtue
> 
> * verd'ika - private rank, but can be used affectionate for a child meaning little soldier
> 
> * vode - brothers/sisters/siblings
> 
> * jetiise - Jedi plural
> 
> * Ni kyr’tayl gai sa’ad. Gar bal an vode - I know your name as my child. You and all your brothers. The first part is the literal adoption vow and the second is more bad Mando'a frm myself.
> 
> * ade - children
> 
> * Note: The clones are not sharing their names, because these are considered personal and a sign of trust. Obi-Wan knows them, but Jango needs to unlock them from the kids.


	3. cody: born to die and drill

Cody, even when he’d just been CC-2224, had known he would one day be one of the leaders of his brothers. During the past year it had been decided he was going to be groomed among the thirty candidates for Marshall Commander depending on who the Jedi preferred. Recently though the _ vode _decided among themselves, as they often did, that Cody was going to be Marshall Commander and he’d accepted the decision after a bit of pressure and one fist fight with Ponds who had won and told Cody that he was stuck with the title now. 

Cody had been unsure of the decision until 99, the oldest and the survivor of the First Batch had helped a frustrated Cody understand why his brother’s wanted him for it.

There were brothers who were more intelligent than he was. He had seen Rex planning battle simulations and had been the one who pointed it out to the long-necks to get him transferred to CC training. Little CT-1303, a mutie that was on the Watch List, could absorb information and reprocess it at a rate that put some droids to shame. There were brothers who were better fighters than he was. No one wanted to fight Ponds in hand-to-hand. He was tricky and he _ bites_. There were other brothers who were fiercer. Wolffe and Fox were opposites, Wolffe slightly feral and quicker and vicious and Fox slow and careful and merciless, but both of them, despite being _ identical_, could be a thousand times more intimidating than Cody.

Cody though was observant. He noticed all these things in his brothers and saw how they could compliment each other or cause friction and reacted accordingly. Cody cared for his brothers and had been the one to try and save them on more than one occasion submitting “logical” ideas to the long necks in order to stop a _ vod _from being disposed of. Cody was a leader and saw their value as individuals before they had known to look at themselves.

Cody had bowed his head at his older brother’s assessment feeling something close to tears. When 99 had been decommissioned he had wanted to scream and cry, but instead he kept himself from doing it and decided he would protect as many _ vode _as he could until the Jedi could come.

The Jedi were going to be their leaders. All their teachers assured them of this. And they were created to help take some pressure off the Order. Cody had thrown himself even more into his history lessons about the legends that were told to them practically since they were decanted. The Jedi were supposed to be Good. Heroes of Light and kind and perfect. Maybe even enough to help his brothers. He memorized their faces and ranks and skills and began planning out who would suit who with the other CC’s. They all had favorites and Cody would sometimes plan out campaigns and battles imagining being with Jedi and maybe even seeing their Temple. They were the Republic's property but they were made for the Jedi who would be _ theirs _. And they were their secret weapon. Mandalorians who could fight Mandalorians. 

Then General Kenobi came and he was exactly what Cody had always dreamed a Jedi would be. He had looked over them with sad blue eyes, taller than them and so very different. It was odd to see another human not in their educational holos. He moved differently than a vode, seeming to float and his blue eyes had an odd glimmer and shine. He looked every inch a Jedi General with the white bits of armor mixed among the Jedi robes. He’d smiled at them and asked their _ names_, before Nala Se had cut in they had designations. But he’d looked at them and then caused an even greater stir by wanting to work with them.

Cody had been thrilled and nervous. It was a chance to see a Jedi up close to impress them.

(_And maybe see if they could help like he always dreamed they would_.)

The first time he asked, softly without any Kaminoan in the room, if they had any nicknames they may call each other beside their designation Cody hadn’t said anything. The words were a lump in his throat and hardness in his stomach with those deep blue eyes looking over them. The others waited until Cody finally did speak, saying his designation, because something inside him, honed sharp to survive said _ not yet_.

The training had been amazing. First he’d had them run through a usual simulation, watching carefully and then he had taken the lead. It had been awkward at first. The _ vode _didn’t really need to communicate heavily with others. Most of them had been in the same batch or pod from the beginning of their lives and knew how to move together. Even working with an unfamiliar brother you knew what to expect. It was frustrating having a Jedi among them moving independently and suddenly and getting in the way. It had been almost embarrassing how poorly they’d done. The General hadn’t said anything until the second run through as he told them they were actually getting in his way and he had to adjust. Jedi had an unbelievable range and could deflect blasters. They needed to adjust the area around him because he was carefully avoiding them with his lightsaber. 

It had taken some getting used to, learning how to move with him and communicate with the General. The long-necks didn’t appreciate talking too much, but the General was happy any time they spoke and asked them questions.

The second time he asked if he could give them nicknames and Cody hesitated but insisted on his designation and the others followed. Training with the General was _ fun _ and they got to be creative and silly and the General didn’t mind. He led from the front in drills and protected them and answered any question they asked about the Outside. Cody and the other CCs talked about it and everyone was in agreement that they liked the General and there had been more than a few arguments about who would get him when they were deployed. Cody had definitely not purposely tripped Fox when he suggested Cody take Coruscant and he get Kenobi. No matter what Rex said.

And then the long-necks had decided to decommission Wrecker. Cody knew all the muties. They were a rare bunch, most were just small ones like Rex and Gree’s hair. But then there were ones like 99 and Wrecker who were undeniably different. Cody had been keeping track of them and doing his best, along with the rest, to assist or protect them. He’d actually gotten one of the younger doctors, a more curious one, to consider the idea of a squad of special desirable mutations. He had then dived into figuring out how to argue for exactly why the _ vod’ika _were “valuable” in terms Kaminoans would accept. 

Wrecker was different, slower with concepts, eager to fit in but awkward, and bigger and stronger than average. When he got frustrated he got angry or cried and had a hard time verbalizing. Cody had thought, stupidly that the younger _ vod _ was _safe _now that they’d started selecting members for the mutant squad. Apparently, the Kaminoans wanted to show a good face to the Jedi and wanted to get rid of such an “obvious failure”. 

Cody had ran hot and cold, sick and furious when he’d heard from Wrecker, who was excited and confused, that he’d been pulled aside for special testing. Fox, clever and always listening, had heard enough to confirm Cody’s fears. Cody hadn’t known what to do, horribly helpless yet again, but then the General had shown up. Looking down at him frowning and getting down at his level, eyes framed by dark circles and looking as if he hadn’t slept since he’d arrived and asked, “What’s wrong little one?”

And Cody had looked at the Jedi and told him everything in a vain hope he couldn’t quite trust.

The General’s face had gotten colder and colder until it smoothed into something blank and serene. He listened to Cody and even wiped away tears Cody hadn’t noticed were falling. It was the only softness he showed as he escorted Cody back to his room and then excused himself. 

Cody hadn’t been able to sleep knowing what he knew.

And then a miracle. General Kenobi had appeared at first meal, looking a little overwhelmed but smiling tiredly with an excitable Wrecker in his arms, happily shouting and telling the General eagerly about his day. Everyone had been silent. _Vode _ who’d been taken for decommission didn’t come back. They _ didn’t_.

They’d made their way to Cody, the General offering him a warm smile, and Wrecker had happily hugged Cody, thanking his “_ori’vod _” loudly and then eagerly running over to join his experimental squad, who immediately started crying to his confusion. Cody’s whole face had burned and his throat had felt tight as the General bent down, an odd look in his eye and promised no more.

They’d learned later that the General had marched straight to Nala Se and Lama Su and banned any more decommissioning unless directly approved by him and retrieved Wrecker himself. No one knew the full details, but the long-necks had been cowed and _ listened_.

The next training session, Cody had pulled General Kenobi aside and whispered his name. The man had looked ready to cry as he _ thanked _ Cody. Cody decided then and there that Obi-Wan Kenobi would be _ his _ Jedi even if he had to pull rank on all his brothers.

-

“I think they moved him off the facility,” Fox reported grimly a bit of dust on his cheek as he dropped down from the vent.

Cody didn’t jump though Wolffe did and Ponds threw a datapad at Fox, who dodged. Rex kept sleeping, until Wolffe rolled his eyes and shoved him off the bed. The blond came up confused and spitting. Cody ignored Wolffe happily allowing Rex to tackle him and then switching to rolling around the ground.

Cody scowled. If the General was off-planet already then it would be harder to rescue him. The Mandalorians had been here for three days and they hadn’t seen the General once. It had been an odd time even without him. They had all had an uninterrupted schedule since they were born. Meals, once the Mandalorians had noticed the _vode_ moving to receive them had quickly been reestablished, but now with the bewildering inclusion of an increasing number of adults of varying species who looked at them with a strange mix of fascination and protectiveness that no one was sure to process. 

They had all been disturbingly friendly and more than a few had happily started to supplement the now lesson free time by teaching them games or showing the older ones fighting forms. The ones actually allowed to interact with them seemed a small amount, especially with the information they’d managed to gather about a planet wide invasion. There were maybe a hundred Mandalorians here, and only about half seemed to be encouraged to talk to them, though none had been hostile.

They were different than Cody had suspected from his training.

Fett was especially troubling. He carefully visited them whenever he could and seemed the best at remembering their designations and telling them apart. The way he looked at them was odd as well. Like an angrier more possessive version of General Kenobi’s gentleness. Cody had learned quickly, after seeing how softly he cradled the youngest of their generation like little Tup, that the anger was never directed at them. He, bewilderingly, had been _ sincere_.

They were conflicted on how to handle the situation. On one-hand the Mandalorian Empire was supposed to be their enemy. But they were treating them well. Like General Kenobi almost. Like they were people and precious and the _ Mand’alor_, the man they were especially designed to be a threat to, seemed to have decided they were his. And he meant it. Fett _ cared_.

And General Kenobi had trusted them. Said they would save the _ vode _and protect them. They all trusted General Kenobi and so far it seemed true. 

But they were the Jedi’s _ enemies _ and they’d taken _ Cody’s, _ the _ vode’s_, General.

It was conflicting and they’d all agreed they needed to find General Kenobi immediately and confirm his wishes, and possibly rescue him, even if Cody had temporarily agreed with Fett’s offer of protection.

(_Adoption_, a disbelieving and thrilled part of him argued.)

So far though they’d been unsuccessful at locating him. Though they had gathered the names of all the assembled Mandalorians, their ranks, a rough estimate on the troops on planet, and were beginning to grasp the schedule the Mandalorians had fallen into.

Rex scowled. “Now what?”

Cody frowned too, trying not to feel overwhelmed. He was supposed to be their leader even if it was years too early. He was the Marshall Commander.

“We need to talk to Fett and the other Mandos,” Cody decided, hoping he sounded sure. “He did promise us and we can try and figure out the timeline we’re on.”

The others nodded as they began to go over the list of Mandalorians ans plan how to best begin approaching them. Fox, who looked annoyed, was sent back out to alert the other CCs to the plan and arrange a time in the morning to discuss it together. Cody swallowed hard and wondered if the General was alright. He wasn’t sure how much of Fett’s sincerity included the Mandalorians’ natural enemy.

**-**

“Do you need something _ ad’ika_?” A voice asked behind Cody, making him jump up away from where he’d been peering at the keypad to Fett’s quarters. He turned quickly to meet the bemused furry face of one the Mandalorians. It took a moment to place the armor as the one who had used the hypo on the General and he scowled instantly, but fought to smooth it away, breathing like General Kenobi had recommended they do to help with their emotions.

Cody thought they might be a Selonian. They were at least two meters high and very slender, the visible portions of their skin covered in short brown fur with a cream collared throat.. Their eyes were a glimmering black and their nose was twitching with what Cody thought might have been amusement. The thought made him want to scowl again, but he resisted.

“I’m looking for Fett,” Cody answered and then because he saw their ears move forward. “For _ buir_.”

The Selonian looked him over carefully, their nose moved slightly scrunching up, before finally they nodded and offered what Cody thought might have been a smile though it wasn’t a comforting one with how it showed their canines.

“Luckily I am headed to join our ‘Alor and can take you to meet him. He should be finished with his _ meeting _ with the former Prime Minister.” 

Cody wasn’t sure why but the words coupled with the smile made him feel oddly nervous. They seemed to sense it, because they covered their teeth and nodded their head down the hall.

“Come with me. Your _buir _ will most likely be trying to rush to see you and your _vode _anyway.”

Cody hesitated, a moment, but rushed to keep up with them. He remembered what he’d read about General Kenobi being a diplomat and the very thin bits of culture they’d learned. He decided to mirror Fett’s greeting, though he was almost certain he knew who this Mandalorian was.

“CC-2224,” he said, feeling awkward. “I use he/him/his.”

They definitely looked amused. They made a point to stop and give Cody a bow at a forty-five degree angle which he memorized. “_Su’cuy, Mando’ad_. I am Suki, she/her/hers.”

Cody nodded and after a few moments of awkward silence began walking again with the distinct impression Suki found something funny. She was the one who broke the silence after it had stretched a whole hallway.

“So why are you wanting to see your _ buir _?”

It seemed like a simple question, but Cody didn’t trust it.

“I had questions.” he said and when she continued staring at him, unblinking, reluctantly continued. “About what happens next. Where do we go?”

That was true enough. Not a lit, but not the main focus of his reason. Cody was hoping to get a hint out of Fett and start getting a handle on the man.

Suki made a thoughtful noise, an almost chirp, before speaking in a business like manner. "We have been working on that. You and the other _ ade _ cannot simply be left here. We are making arrangements at the Capital so you can stay close to your _ buir _ and be protected. Currently we are securing access of the Integration dormitories and re-purposing them while a new residential section is being reserved. It will give you structure as well as keep you all together."

That was useful and she seemed awfully free with it too. Cody decided to risk questions. 

"What's Integration?" It felt familiar, as if he'd heard the term somewhere. 

Suki smiled, sharp edged once more. "It's a program we have to help new Mandalorians learn how their new culture works. You will go through a form of it as your _ buir _ teaches you about your people. Kenobi will likely be in a neighboring program.

Cody tried to not show quite how excited he was at this information. "The General? But I thought Mandalorians hated _ jetiise_?"

"They are annoying opponents and _ dangerous. _ Kenobi is fairly awful himself. Very clever, very skilled, perfect for Integration even without his standing."

"Standing?" Cody could remember it now. It was the mind washing program for conquered people he'd read about.

"Yes," She actually laughed a little. "The Negotiator is a prize we want with us even without what he’s done here. Children are precious to Mandalorians. By helping us find you and your brothers Kenobi has proven himself a hero to all _ Mando’ade_. If Jango hadn’t already decided to claim him for the program the public may have demanded it. Integration will help Kenobi let go of his Republic teachings and learn how to be a _ Mando’ad_. Simply by being chosen for it he is already a Mandalorian. Clans will be scrambling to make him an honor member even before he can be officially taken by a mentor. Though I doubt your _ buir _intends to let him out of his sight.”

Cody’s mind reeled because that was a lot of information but two things stood out. Fett wasn’t letting General Kenobi out of his sight. So that meant he had to be nearby. Fox hadn’t been able to access some of the personal quarters, which meant suddenly getting into them became a priority. And they were going to send Kenobi back for _ Reprogramming_. Cody tried not to let the panic show. Everyone knew someone who’d been Reprogrammed because they fell too outside of acceptable parameters. They came back blank faced and striped of their names and personality. It was like seeing them die even if they could slowly recover sometimes, who they were before didn’t always return. 

Cody didn’t know Natural borns even did that. Cody couldn’t let them do that to General Kenobi. Couldn’t let them turn the kind and gentle man who always listened to them and tried to save them into a protocol droid.

He needed to go immediately to alert the others. 

“I, uh, need to go!” Cody said stopping and making Suki turn to look at him. “I promised Re-CT-7567 to help him with cutting his hair!”

Suki looked at him blinking slowly. “You would like to leave instead of seeing your _ buir _because you need to go help your brother cut his hair?”

Cody nodded, eagerly, heart pounding. “Yes, the accelerated growth makes everything grow quickly! And he hates his hair being too long. I promised him first. I’ll see _ buir _later. After we cut his hair. Yes.”

Suki looked stunned, or at least Cody was guessing it was a close approximation of it, and her face was quickly changing to something more focused. 

“Growth acceleration?” Suki asked voice sharp and a small almost imperceptible growl entering her voice. Cody was glad she focused on that instead of his lie and straightened. Maybe if he gave her something else to think of he could slip away faster.

“The long-necks made us all grow more quickly than the natural borns. No one wants a soldier that takes decades to be ready. The first generation is on double time. I’m only five standard years according to our last health check. They were working on figuring out a balance to allow for further generations to be triple time or faster for more convenience. But we’re supposed to be the command structure and center of the army that the more fast moving _ vod’ika _would center around.”

Cody recited the knowledge as quick as he could. It was the same thing he’d told General Kenobi. It was strange to see that Suki seemed to be having the same bewildering reaction. She growled, her fur standing on end.

“How do you know all this? Did they tell you anything else about your development?”

Cody snorted. “No. The long-necks didn’t talk to us. I’m a CC and a Marshall Commander candidate I had to know so I could prepare for leading them. Besides we _ listen_. We aren’t stupid.”

Cody realized he was giving her the same look that he’d given his brothers when they said something particular stupid and obvious. He tried to hide it. The Mandalorians weren’t the long-necks who didn’t approve of too much emotion, but they were still the enemy. Instead of looking offended though something about her softened almost she looked at Cody with a strangely fond expression despite her steeliness.

“Go see your brother. I need to discuss something with your _ buir _it appears. It would be best if you waited until he came to talk to you.”

Cody nodded and turned to rush away. They needed to move things up now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vod / vode: brother/sister/sibling
> 
> Vod'ika / Ori'vod: The first is for a younger sibling and the second is an older sibling.
> 
> Buir: mother/father/parent
> 
> Mand'alor / 'Alor: shortening of Mand'alor, the sole ruler of the Mandalorian people
> 
> ad’ika: little one, used for children, affectionate for ones own child as well
> 
> Su’cuy, Mando’ad.: The formal greeting from Integration that Obi-Wan is taught. It means "hello child of Mandalore". Suki is trying to subtly give these kids some culture.
> 
> Ade: plural for child/daughter/son
> 
> jetiise: plural for Jedi
> 
> Mando'ade: literally "children of Mandalore", in this case refering to Mandalorians in their own language
> 
> Reprogramming: This is basically a form of brainwashing used on Kamino to "reset" clones to their "factory settings". They were planning to do this in the Order 66 Arc with Fives and I imagine it is somewhat like what happened to the Clones when Order 66 is activated and rewrote their personalities and individual wills. The Integration program is a slightly different concept as they want the "initiates" to maintain their identities and wills but this is the instant connection to the Clones and a nightmare for them. This is going to lead to some interesting conversations and verbal dancing on the Mandalorians and Jango's part.
> 
> On Suki, I have been combing back over Integration taking notes and working on a list of characters. I hadn't realized she was Selonian. I speed read and sometimes miss descriptions until this time! They are a furry race and the idea of Suki being one is great. They are drawn sometimes as humanoid weasels/ferrets and other times as humanoid cat people. I now picture Suki as a completely merciless pine marten.


	4. anakin: the kingdom where nobody dies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meanwhile back in Coruscant...
> 
> Here's the other side of the story we'll be following! Bby!Anakin and the Jedi Drama. 
> 
> We'll be back to Kamino and our main bunch soon, but gotta introduce the other PoV characters!
> 
> Anakin was emotional and all over the place. Mostly a glimpse of the baseline for the Coruscant/Jedi side of things.

Anakin Skywalker never hated anything more than being publically the Chosen One. 

Anakin liked the Temple, most days, but he could feel the looks and the way everyone stared at him now. Even worse than when he’d just been a strange older Initiate that Qui-Gon had brought back. The former slave boy. Then there'd been pity in their eyes he'd hated and confusion everytime he did something un-Jedi. They all knew now. Knew who he was supposed to be. And the looks had _ changed _.

It made Anakin squirm and want to simultaneously preen and hide away at the way the younglings and even some of the Padawans looked at him admiringly. They were seeing how quickly Anakin completed his work, how skilled he was, how _ special. _

(_ Like the Chancellor had told him he was _. Part of him whispered.)

Anakin hadn’t expected the weight of the stares or the way people would look at him with _ expectations _. He was the Chosen One, even if the Council refused to announce it officially. He would bring balance to the Force. He would defeat the Sith. He would save the Republic.

Suddenly every failure was _ worse _ . Every expectation was _ higher _. He was the Chosen One. He couldn’t just be good for a Padawan. He had to be better.

Obi-Wan had been furious when the news first spread. It was the first time Anakin had ever seen him disagree with the Council and he'd _ demanded _to know who had broken the trust. Everyone swore they'd kept the secret and eventually Obi-Wan believed them.

Obi-Wan had pulled Anakin aside and asked in that gentle way that made him squirm if he'd told anyone. He'd sworn he hadn't and after a moment Obi-Wan nodded and promised everything would be fine. But he'd looked worried.

(_ Anakin had felt a small pang of guilt, but he hadn't _ lied _ . He hadn't told the Chancellor he was the Chosen One. The Chancellor had brought it up sounding confused and curious as he always did when 'Force matters' came up if the rumors about Anakin being a supposed 'Chosen One' were true. Anakin had panicked, he wasn't supposed to tell _ anyone _ that, briefly, but the Chancellor had laughed it off and assured Anakin it didn't change the Chancellor's feelings about him. He'd given Anakin that reassuring smile that always made Anakin relax and his mind drift a bit and told him that 'of course Anakin would be the Chosen One' and that the Chancellor had 'always known he was special'. But he'd also sworn to keep it secret and said that he would never expect Anakin to single handedly save them. It would be too much and the Chancellor _ cared _ about him and wanted him to be happy. _

_ Anakin could trust the Chancellor the Jedi were sworn to serve.) _

Obi-Wan had been tense and angry and hovering in a way he’d never done before as the news spread through the Temple. Anakin had enjoyed it, but been confused by Obi-Wan’s reaction right up until he fell short of someone’s expectations the first time and felt the disappointment and shame that sent him running to Obi-Wan.

And it got _ worse _.

Suddenly it was like all the Masters were looking at him and more than one had made some comments to Obi-Wan about 'properly preparing the Chosen One'. Anakin hadn’t understood the slowly ramping up tension until Obi-Wan had been issued the first challenge for his Mastery.

Anakin had barely been able to breath, he’d been so panicked. He’d already lost Mom and then Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan was all he had. Obi-Wan was _ his _ . His only family. He’d been working himself up so badly he thought he would throw up and the sand in the training room had started to swirl in strange erratic patterns. Obi-Wan had been there though. Had grabbed Anakin by the shoulders and smiled and _ promised _.

Obi-Wan wouldn’t lose. He swore. He would be Anakin’s Master and he would _ fight for him_.

Anakin had watched terrified even while being certain his Master was the best. It was only after Obi-Wan won, with a surprisingly vicious final stroke, that he’d been able to relax.

More challenges came, but Obi-Wan won each of them and Anakin noticed he started training, more than any of the other Generals even. Not just Ataru, but Soresu and going through the basics of the other forms, so he’d “be familiar with a challenger”. Anakin would watch him sometimes and knew that Obi-Wan wouldn’t give him up and felt strangely thrilled. Obi-Wan wasn’t the greatest at talking sometimes and was awkward with physical affection. He preferred to let Anakin feel his emotions through their Bond. Anakin understood, but sometimes he wanted more, a solid confirmation that Obi-Wan actually wanted him.

Seeing Obi-Wan fight for him gave him that. But the threat of being taken from him and all the _ expectations _made Anakin wish, for the first time, he was a little less special.

And now his Master was _ gone _, presumed missing.

(Defected_ , one unfortunate older Padawan had whispered within Anakin’s hearing. Master Koon had to pull him off when his mind had gone red with rage. They were all still whispering about it and some of the older Master’s were saying it was _ Obi-Wan’s _ influence. Anakin wanted to scream that it was his Master’s influence. It was the knowledge that his Master would be disappointed in him and the lessons _ Obi-Wan _ had taught him that stopped him from letting his temper explode even _ more _ . _)

It had been a month since Anakin had seen Obi-Wan. 

Obi-Wan had gone on a secret mission from the Council and there hadn’t been any word from him. It wasn’t too strange, at first, his Master was one of the most requested Generals. Though Anakin _ hated _ his Master going on missions without him. He understood that some missions a Padawan couldn’t go on. Or at least Anakin tried to understand. They were too dangerous and according to Obi-Wan, when he was more tired and a little more free with his words due to it, keeping Padawans off the front was something the Council struggled against with the Senate. Anakin knew over the years since the Republic had been founded the age for Padawans to be in active duty had dropped again and again even as they did not for the rest of the Republic’s military. There had even big a vote about it that had been the only thing the adults could talk about the first year Anakin had been at the Temple. The Jedi had just barely been able to get enough votes to keep the age at sixteen. Anakin could remember that's how he met Vos, who'd been worried about Aayla about to turn thirteen. 

Anakin knew it was important to stay _ safe _, but he wanted desperately to be with his Master, protecting his back like they had promised. He understood, reluctantly, that it would undermine all of these fights if Anakin was given special exemption. 

He still hated any mission that took Obi-Wan away from him. 

A week into Obi-Wan’s mission their Bond had gone _ numb _. Anakin could still feel it, a snippet of emotion that wasn’t his or a stray though, insisting that Obi-Wan was alive, but he’d rushed, terrified to the Council about what it meant. They’d all looked grim and started trying to contact Obi-Wan as Anakin had been forced to wait outside the Council Chambers until they called him in. No one had explained to him what was going on until he’d been settled with the Healers. Master Che had said, very gently, that when a Master numbed his Bond with a Padawan Learner it was to help prevent them from dealing when the shockwave of their Master’s death.

The world had been broken since that day as they’d all waited for the sign of a broken Bond and deliberated breaking it intentionally to “protect him”. Anakin had cracked the Council’s chamber windows without meaning to at the suggestion. 

Now he was constantly being watched and still there were no leads. No news, no one going to find Obi-Wan. Anakin had made one attempt (more than one in truth but that was the only one that had come close to succeeding) to go after Obi-Wan himself. But they’d caught him in the hanger and he was confined to the Inner Temple and Meditation Gardens until a decision was reached.

Anakin wanted to scream most days and the ones he didn’t he wanted to spend them crying and curled up in his room--his and Obi-Wan’s quarters--away from everyone. Today he couldn’t _ stand _ the thought of being in class acting like things were normal. Things were not normal and never could be. He had no one to talk with about it either. He was confined to the Temple so he couldn’t talk to the Chancellor, his go-to when Obi-Wan was absent, and he didn’t want to talk to any of the Masters. Not when they were basically _ abandoning _Obi-Wan and wouldn’t let him go save him.

Obi-Wan and Anakin had promised to save each other. Even if Obi-Wan was silly and didn’t think he was good enough to be his Master, Anakin was angry and emotional and a disappointing Chosen One. Obi-Wan had said he wanted Anakin and not because of Qui-Gon but because of _ Anakin _. They were supposed to be together because then they were enough.

Anakin rubbed his face furiously, feeling the hot tears and the way they stung. He hated crying and the way his whole insides ached. Crying didn’t help anything. It hadn’t helped when he was left alone and scared when Mom got sick and died. It hadn’t helped when Qui-Gon died, cut down by a Sith while ensuring they could evacuate. It hadn’t helped when he’d been worried about what would happen to him without Qui-Gon to take him.

It hadn’t helped with Obi-Wan missing. 

Anakin wasn’t just sad he was _ angry _ . Angry at everything and everyone and especially himself hidden away crying and _ useless _. He could feel the Force reacting to him and for once he didn’t care. Didn’t care if he lost control. If he wasn’t acting like a Jedi. Anakin latched onto his anger and fear and let it rage around him. The storm he felt inside. The water’s of the meditation pool roiled and the plants, many Force-sensitive, started to curl up away from him.

The peace of the garden was broken. Something dark curled in Anakin at that. He both wanted to stop and not. The gardens were beautiful, amazing things of stories, that he could only dream of on Tatooine. He loved them and the greenery and the water everywhere and the life that glowed in them. Obi-Wan actually smiled when they were here talking fondly of Qui-Gon and softened by the memories. No one diturbed them in the gardens and Anakin could stay here surrounded by the peace. 

But he also hated it. 

Choked on the wrongness of everything still being so perfect and wonderful when the world was so broken. It shouldn’t look like that. It shouldn’t still be peaceful when Obi-Wan was gone, when Anakin was breaking, when everything was so very _ wrong _.

He wanted to disturb it, to break it, to make it look _ as bad as he felt _. He-he-

“Anakin?” The voice was feminine, familiar and curling just slightly into nervousness.

Anakin froze. He could barely feel the Force signature, tentative but confident, from behind him buffered by the storm of his emotions. He turned wary to find a pretty Twi’lek girl, slightly older, looking at him, all concerned and a quiet peace about her that made his heart hurt.

It took him a moment to place her through the storm in his mind. She was Aayla Secura. They hadn't talked much, but her Master was friends with Obi-Wan and they'd occasionally spend time together when on assignment. Aayla was in classes for more Senior Padawans, but she never acted like she minded if Anakin came and sought her out when Obi-Wan was absent. 

And she understood. In a way almost no one seemed to.

(_ "Master Quinlan rescued me," She'd told Anakin almost a matter of factly, speaking in Low Huttese, the language of slaves and making him jump and gape. "I was a slave too." _

_ Then, after looking at Quinlan and Obi-Wan and confirming they weren't listening, she leaned forward and whispered. "Master doesn't know, I never told him. But I remember. Twi'lek memories aren't as faded as other humanoids. I remember what it was like." _

_ Anakin had stared not quite able to process and the older girl was a Freed, like he was. _

_ "I don't want you to think you're alone, little brother." _

_ And she'd smiled, a warm smile that felt like she did. A being of light and fire and deep wells of calm. Anakin had nodded, but had been more relaxed around her afterwards. More willing to go to her when comments were made about _ 'the slave boy' _ . Her eyes would flash and then she'd smile and within a day the whispers would stop. _)

Aayla never gave into her anger, never seemed to have the same dark cloud of rage and scars that wouldn't leave like he did. But she understood them and listened to Anakin when he needed to talk and felt like he couldn't tell his Master, for all Aayla encouraged him to. 

And she was watching him be just as uncontrolled as everyone whispered he'd be. Like Obi-Wan had taught him not to be. Anakin's anger stopped, leaving him empty and weak and he felt like his legs had been knocked out from under him.

She looked at him a few moments and stepped forward and slowly reaching out with the Force offering comfort and letting her flickering fire presence to brush gently against him. 

"Master and I just returned from Teth," Aayla said. "He's with the Council right now."

She didn't say anything else. Didn't need to. Anakin could hear the words in between. _ I heard about Obi-Wan. I'm sorry. Quinlan will try to go after him. _

Anakin wiped his eyes and slowly, tentatively reached out to touch Aayla's warm presence. It was the first time he had felt someone else since Obi-Wan cut him off. It made him want to cry again. Aayla poked back and let him approach offering up her arm for him to tuck himself under her, both literally and spiritually hugged by her. 

She reached up to brush over his hair and there was a flicker of uncertainty in her signature. For all her comfort she felt as helpless as he did on what they were supposed to do. Somehow it helped. A little. To have someone else who felt similarly. 

"Let's go back to my quarters little brother," Aayla said finally and Anakin followed her.

-

Hours later Anakin was sitting in Aayla's room. He wasn't calm. His grief and anger was still there under his skin digging at him with fearful whispers. But it wasn't a storm any longer. Aayla was showing him the new meditation technique Quinlan had her working on, fighting meditation, allowing him to feel how her presence reacted as she moved through the forms of a memorized battle. It was oddly soothing to feel Aayla's presence calm even as he couldn't calm his own.

A sound of a door hissing as it moved made both of them look up, Aayla taking a little longer than Anakin. It was followed by a man's voice calling out, "Aayla!"

Aayla shook herself, turning off the training saber and called out, "In here Master."

Anakin curled up on the bed. He didn't dislike Quinlan, but he didn't necessarily like the man. He was loud and confident and every time he came around he seemed to distract Obi-Wan. Anakin already had to deal with missions taking his Master's attention away without the other Master interrupting their precious training time. But he _ was _ one of Obi-Wan's friends and he listened to Anakin and would slip him droid parts with a wink.

There was a curse followed by a sharp whistle in Binary that sounded familiar.

When Quinlan stepped inside the room, knocking first, he smiled at Aayla, who returned it, and then looked at Anakin. Quinlan looked serious. Sad and exhausted and his eyes were red. Anakin had never seen the man like this except one time Aayla had gotten hurt on a joint mission.

Anakin felt the fear he'd kept buried under his anger start to shake its way free.

"Anakin," Quinlan said, eyes sad and voice gentle like it usually only was with Aayla. Anakin wanted to run. Quinlan was blocking the only exit though.

"While we were in the Council we received some news from Obi-Wan." Quinlan swallowed hard. "His mission took a turn for the worse-"

_ No _. Anakin's ears were ringing. He was only hearing some of what Quinlan was saying. He felt like a star was collapsing inside him. 

"-he Mandalorians landed and there was no escape."

_ Please no. _

"The Council will meet with you as soon as you feel capable to answer your questions-"

_ He promised _.

"But, there was something for you."

_ We were supposed to save each other! _

A sharp whistle was startling enough for Anakin to focus and find a familiar red astromech beside the bed, fussing over him with anxious chirps in Binary. Anakin answered without much thought, whistling at R4 to calm down. She beeped at him unconvinced and chirupped him that she knew enough to tell when organics were lying.

Anakin ignored that and looked back up at Quinlan. He looked crushed and Aayla was beside him, her face sad and facing towards Anakin but still under her Master's hand on her shoulder.

"The droid has a message for you." Quinlan took a deep shuddering breath. "When you're ready, come join us."

With that Quinlan left, Aayla following obediently.

R4 rolled forward to nudge his knee with her forcep letting out a mournful whistle asking if Anakin wanted to see the message. 

Anakin didn't. It wasn't real. Watching it would make it real.

But maybe it would have a hint? An idea of where Obi-Wan was so Anakin could find him.

He wasn't dead. This wasn't a last message like Mom whispering in his arms. It was Anakin's first step to finding his wayward Master. To getting him back.

A bit of hope stirred inside him. The Bond may have been silent this week, but that didn't mean anything!

Anakin whistled sharp and high in Binary for R4 to play it. She chirped at him and a small blue image of Obi-Wan appeared on the bed. He looked soaked, his chin length hair flat on his head, robes darkened and the sound of rain behind him. His face was haggard, even more tired than he had been before he left, dark circles and gaunt in that way that usually meant he wasn't eating. He smiled suddenly, eyes turning and meeting, impossibly, Anakin's gaze.

"Hello there little nova," Obi-Wan said, voice worn but wrapping around Anakin and making him want nothing more than for his Master to be there. "I don't have long. Things are moving quickly now. There's-there's so much left to say. That I want to say to you. Anakin, I don't even know where to begin."

Obi-Wan laughed, in a dry, not funny way.

"The Negotiator lost for words. And so much less than you deserve." He took a shuddering breath and seemed to look into Anakin's face, his expression more open, painfully obviously full of affection. 

“I will try my best. You are strong and kind Anakin, and I am so very proud of you. I wanted to teach you everything I know. Be the Master you deserve, my dear brilliant Padawan. I can't, won't be able to see you as a knight, I can't be there to keep you safe. I'm so sorry." Obi-Wan's voice broke and he closed his eyes before continuing, voice thick. "But I know you will become a far greater Jedi than I could ever hope to be.” Obi-Wan swallowed and Anakin saw the holo flicker as something cracked in Obi-Wan’s face, it hurt to look at him but Anakin couldn't turn away. “I love you.”

_ My beautiful son. _Mom said, tired, so sick, her face burning hot but her hands cold as death.

_ I love you. _ Obi-Wan said looking at him desperate, a flickering blue image unable to be touched.

_ My beautiful son. _

_ I love you. _

_ My beautiful son. I love you. _

_ MybeautifulsonIloveyou. MybeautifulsonIloveyou. _

_ MybeautifulsonIloveyou _

Anakin grabbed his head and _ screamed _.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be replying to comments tomorrow. Know I appreciate and love all of them and reread them. Your ideas and commentary give me life!


	5. satine: for the good of the realm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Satine and Effao are co-rulers. It goes as well as you'd expect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I know it's been ages. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who continued to comment and love this fic. I'm sorry it's so late and definitely rougher than my usual. I'll come back and edit it after I've actually slept. You all are the fantastic and it means a lot
> 
> No promises, because honestly life has kind of been burning me out for months but I do have the next chapter, Obi-Wan, outlined and at least started. So hopefully it will be easier to get out.
> 
> I'm sorry if this feels filler it is entirely necessary to set up future plot points though!
> 
> Riversong4thewin, I missed the third but I hope this helps a little.

In all technicality Akkus Wral should have been in charge of Keldabe in the Mand’alor’s absence. Zir position and seniority put zem above her and certainly Effao. Mandalorians believed in merit based rule, it was true, but there was also the edge of justling for influence and nepotism that their Clan based system suffered from. It was the Mand'alor's job to insure that this did not infect their Empire's values, but it still existed. Satine had certainly dealt with it often enough in her work. She understood the strict hierarchy of experience and seniority that others sometimes refused to acknowledge. Velia had made sure her daughter did and introduced her to others who would help Satine when she decided her path in life. Adonai had countered his wife by emphasizing to all his daughters the importance of earning your place based on your own skills and worth.

Satine liked to think she had carefully balanced those teachings inside her and judged others on their own skills, but respected the unspoken hierarchy. 

Akkus, as the most experienced one of those favored to be in the current Mand’alor’s Inner Circle, should have been leading with the Minister of Mandalore Internal Affairs.

Which Satine was most certainly not. At least not yet.

She was only twenty-nine and the Undersecretary in the Bureau of Inter-Clan Affairs in the Mandalore Internal Affairs Department. She was self-assured enough to note that she was one of its best members and had been promoted to the position quickly. She was fighting to be in the running for the next Vice-Minister for Diplomacy and Public Affairs. Satine was skilled at what she did. She had been raised to recognize her abilities and not hide them because of false modesty. She  _ knew _ how the complex interconnected clans functioned and interacted and all the bureaucracy that went into running an Empire.

But she was not a Minister or even a Vice-Minister yet. Would not be for at least five years, if her plans went accordingly. By her own code of ethics and recognized hierarchy in her Department  _ she should not be here _ .

Not that the Mand’alor seemed to care about this. 

He and Minister Almec were not on the best of terms, though he kept the man in the position. Mand’alor Fett preferred to use Satine as his go-between to their Department and she often found herself answering questions and assigned tasks on his behalf that were quite out of her purview.

The first time it had happened she had not even had a title, having only been assigned to the Department because she’d met Minister Almec during her schooling and been inspired by him to seek a life in Public Service. Her mother had encouraged the connection and helped connect Satine to others in the Minister’s circle. Satine though, at twenty-three had gained the position without accepting some of her mother’s friends offers of support. She wanted to prove that being one of the soft “silk dressed Mandos” from Kalevala did not mean she couldn’t earn her place. She was working her way up far from the connections that had been offered to her as a junior member fresh to Keldabe. It was all part of her fifteen year plan.

She had not expected to suddenly be stopped by the Mand’alor and asked to report to him with updates on projects  _ she only knew about in passing _ .

Bo-Katan had laughed at her when she came home flustered and blustering about it. Ruusaan had been even worse, smiling. Her older sister’s face blurry through the comm, and telling her it was a compliment to her skills for the Mand'alor to seek her out. Satine had doubts of her sister's opinions, having been the only one amongst them to have met their leader in person and having gotten the impression, despite his calm, he didn't necessarily approve of her. It seemed more likely some kind of backhanded statement to Almec as she was known as his protege and rumors spoke of tension between their new Mand'alor and the long time Minister. 

Satine had been deeply furious at his refusal to listen when she tried to explain that it was not Satine's place to do these tasks over other members of her Department and the actions implied disrespect to her mentor. She decided to take it as a challenge and threw herself into preparing, tracking down reports, calling in favors, and skipping sleep. She’d succeeded and presented her report, though it was certainly  _ not  _ within her responsibilities, to Mand’alor Fett and had stood before him tall and borderline disrespectful in a way that made her flush with embarrassment to reflect on. Mand’alor Fett had not taken her interrupting him or bristling poorly though, instead he’d smiled, a sharp predatory thing that made Satine feel hunted, and looked her over assessing. 

In accomplishing it she’d accidentally signed herself up to be his most bothered politician.

It had certainly helped to train her in dealing with sour tempers and offended sensibilities. The other Ministers and staff members were less than pleased to be sent to deal with a lower ranking member. Only Almec had been gracious, speaking for her and offering comforting words at her being singled out. Even now, several promotions and six years later, she was nowhere near highly enough placed to be sitting with Effao before the Clan Heads hearing complaints and planning defenses.

She was relieved that Almec had taken it good-naturedly, her mentor tutting over her worriedly and reassuring her that one did not defy the Mand’alor his whims. Almec had said he was confident that Satine would succeed. Still Satine, at least, was burning on the polite well-mannered man’s behalf. It was an insult and Satine was a Mando’ad, for all Bo and others called her soft for disliking fighting and looked at her clothes askance, enough not to forgive it easily. She understood loyalty and expected it returned. Minister Almec had served Mand’alor Mereel and Mand’alor Fett for years and he had not deserved to be  _ passed over _ in what was such a clear insult.

_ And Akkus _ ! Satine may not know zem very well, but ze should be the one playing the other face of the Mand’alor beside Satine. Not Effao, hot-headed and blunt as she was. Her current position certainly suited her, but it was a nightmare to have her with Satine while she was attempting to deescalate a situation. Especially with the woman in such a temper over not being taken to fight. Akkus, who was a strange calm figure in the Mand’alor’s Inner Circle, would have been much better suited, even without zir seniority. 

-

"The new dormitories should be finished within two standard weeks. They will have different areas for each age group and we believe we will have enough room to host the current numbers. Much of the Keldabe Initiates have successfully settled in Sundari’s facilities. Teacher Wudo reported only a few difficulties that were quickly settled. She will be sending the finalized inventory requests for the new location later this week. We’ll likely need either a meeting with Minister Orrad-”

“Mujiita?” Effao interrupted looking at Satine with barely hidden disdain, face scrunched up and eyes squinting and slightly swollen from her reading her own data pads on her side of their temporary shared quarters. The woman was curled up in a specialized round chair that Thral Dag had happily presented to her for her new “desk job”. The announcement had been met with much swearing and pinpoint throwing of Satine’s favorite flimsi weights. The situation had ended with Effao swearing eternal hatred of the chair she always used, Dag running away laughing from projectiles, and Satine having to suppress the embarrassing urge to return fire.

“Yes,  _ Minister Orrad _ ,” Satine said with perhaps a little more edge than she usually allowed, judging by the way Effao’s gaze focused and narrowed. Her head was throbbing though and her face hot, the frustration of the day, and her unhelpful “co-regent”, leaving her less than gracious.

Mujiita was a perfectly lovely man. A bit stiff at times, but he appreciated Satine’s own stubborn philosophical position. Something they’d discovered quite by accident. The two, despite their difference in positions, often found themselves commiserating on similar frustrations in fitting in with their own cultures standards. Besides Almec and her mother, he was one of the first people she could be more free on her somewhat more  _ radical  _ opinions on the Empire.

“He is the Minister of Resource Relocation. We need his assistance with finding the resources to suddenly house an influx of thousands of citizens. If you feel yourself incapable of managing basic manners when interacting with the man, then please do me quite the large favor of removing yourself. I shall find it quite beneficial to accomplish our work  _ without your pouting _ .”

Satine had stood up without realizing her temper, as it always did, making her move and her voice not rising but growing icy as her whole body was subsumed with heat. There was something deeply satisfying about allowing the annoyance and frustration of days and days of little sleep to explode over Effao. Satine was working a position she was unfamiliar with, her closest assistance being a woman who disdained everything Satine stood for and spent most of the time furiously pouting instead of supporting her because she wasn’t off slaughtering the Empire’s enemies.

At the same time, the cool analytical part of Satine’s mind observed this was a terrible decision. Effao had the Mand’alor’s ear and for all her work ethic and disdain of Satine’s friend seemed to echo her opinions of Satine’s own values and self, the woman was higher ranked than her. Making her an enemy was not only foolish but possibly disastrous. 

Satine found it hard to care.

Effao was strangely graceful as she rose from her chair face dark and hand’s bracing on the desk to lean over, pushing herself up to come inches from Satine’s own nose.

Alarms were blaring in warning, reminding Satine that Effao, despite the softness to her face pregnancy had gifted her, was one of the most deadly and clever fighters the Empire had. Satine had, always, been the kind of fighter that made her teacher’s weep in frustration and shame. After completing the mandatory training her father had required she hadn’t touched a weapon and only indulged in the stretches because of their meditative nature.

The tension was palpable and Satine felt a sudden visceral understanding of Bo’s explanations for how her feelings had boiled up leading to the fights she’d always gotten into.

Then the large center Comm Unit in the office went off and they both turned to find an alert from the Mand’alor.

Effao moved first as Satine’s stunned mind tried to catch up with the sudden change. The woman moved around the table, losing some of the deadly grace Satine had glimpsed as she navigated her stomach through the tight space between the war table and her desk to get to the comm. It doused her temper leaving her nauseous.

Satine had just picked a fight. She’d, for a moment, wanted one even.

It was shameful.

She followed Effao silent, the acrid taste on the back of her throat as her head spun with shame at herself. Acting so shamefully in a professional setting. Showing such a face to a stranger.

Her mother would be ashamed. 

Feeling thoroughly chagrined Satine followed at a more mellow pace, taking in the familiar sight of the Mand'alor in full regalia. She prepared to greet him, formally and properly, but his eyes snapped towards her and the words died in her throat. His dark eyes were  _ furious _ . A grief filled rage that sent her mind spiralling back to the broadcast he gave to the entire Empire when he took over the position after Mand'alor Mereel had been murdered. The same look that had sparked the absolute culling of House Vizsla.

She faltered, swallowing dryly, and continued her approach at a much more measured pace.

For all he was only a hologram now, Mand'alor Fett was their most accomplished killer and Satine was suddenly feeling very threatened.

_ Soldier _ , a voice of indignation corrected sounding like Ruusaan's campfire warmth. 

_ Killer _ , her mother's echoed with silken judgement and just as cool.

"Minister," Mand'alor Fett acknowledged with a deathly quiet. "I have news that will need to be taken into consideration when settling the children."

It was a more formal greeting than he usual gave and for that reason it made Satine certain something was wrong more than anything. It was like the Mand'alor was clutching for anything to keep himself focused and in control. One moment from charging into something. It was  _ unsettling _ . 

Mand'alor Fett was a very controlled man and very controlling in turn. 

"I have sent files to your pads, look over them as you will," the Mand'alor said and then continued. "The children have been experimented on."

Satine's stomach twisted at the thought thoroughly repulsed as she had been when the news first started to circulate. It was awful but is not surprising confirmation from what had already been reported. She and Effao, and for once Effao actually had helped, had made sure to find doctors who focused on trauma in preparation for the children's arrival.

The Mand'alor gritted his teeth and seemed to spit the next words.

"Their genetic makeup has been altered to make them age faster. At different rates. Most age twice as fast. The  _ drones _ ," The Mand'alor snarled the word, seeming to be quoting someone. "Age at five times that rate and they'd been experimenting to increase it. They wanted an easily replenishable army for the  _ Grand Republic _ ."

Satine felt herself sway, mouth going ashy. Children bred like flies, swift and replaceable. Old men in a handful of years.

"Geneticists," she said, voice rough. "There are a few members of the Empire who would qualify to examine the technology and who'd have the ability to start reversing it."

Mand'alor Fett nodded and turned to Effao who was swearing and for once Satine could find nothing wrong with it.

"I trust you to find a team then," he said icily and turned to Effao expression softening in the smallest increment. "Effao and I need to speak privately. You are dismissed."

Satine didn't protest, her mind a disarray and her stomach roiling.

“Ret’urcye mhi, Mand’alor,” Satine said, unable to abandon the formalities even in chaos, and gave him the forty-five degree bow.

Mand'alor Fett bowed his head at Satine “Ret’urcye mhi, alor be Manda’yaim."

Satine  _ fled _ .

-

Satine had never been a warrior, not like her sisters. Her mother was a Clan Poet and her father was a warlord but only in name. Sundari was a small but beautiful city, a jewel of art and calm. Bo-Katan had considered their home boring, but Satine adored it and had been horrified when she left her protective bubble. Everything seemed so crass and rough. Velia Kryze had always had a similar view to Satine speaking hours on the merits of Sundari's more "sophisticated" society and diplomatic relations. They were what the Empire should strive to become, not cling to the past glories but grow themselves into something  _ more _ .

It had appealed to Satine who had never liked fighting and enjoyed her mother's silks and art and admired the speakers in the Sundari university and the way Minister Almec, a Sundari native, had risen so high. 

Velia Kryze, in their most private moments, mourned that during the early years her ancestors had refused to join hands with the Republic. Although their enemy, Velia had a great respect for them she imparted on Satine. 

"We say we are a meritocracy, but when those merits are not to do with violence how far do they grow?" Velia said, always careful to make sure they were alone. "The Republic recognizes the power of words and peace. Are not the jedi supposed to be peacekeepers in the old stories? The peace in  _ stagnation _ ," And here her mother would always growl. It was a phrase visitors often applied with distaste to Sundari. "To counter the Mando'ade violent growth?"

"The Republic has a civilized process our people can learn from."

_Where_ _was that civilized air you so admired?_ Satine wondered bitterly, as she read over the reports in her apartment. It was late, but there was no sleep coming to her. The frantic energy left over from the deeper knowledge of what the Republic sanctioned made her nauseous. 

And sanctioned they had. She read through the communication reports and the "development of product" updates with increasing fury and horror. Clinical observations of "damaged product" being "decommissioned" and horrifying experiments and changes that were green lighted over and over. This was nothing like the place Satine had admired as a girl. That her mother so greatly believed they should strive to be.

It was a nightmare from Mandalorian ancient tales made flesh and Satine had never felt more one of her people than in her complete rejection of it as an ultimate taboo.

She took a deep shaky drink from her wine glass and brought back up the reports on Resource Allocation, setting aside the Kamino Correspondence for now. She'd originally asked for information on geneticists for a separate issue, a medical university wanting to expand their curriculum and a cabinet member of the Education Department asked for Satine's help in exchange for a favor.

Radnor stood out. A familiar name. Usually specializing in high-tech weaponry it had been under the Empire for three generations and had been gaining more self-rule. Recently began to branch out into medical research pushed by two genius siblings. Currently they only had a courtesy garrison stationed there with its leader temporarily on the Council ruling it. The leader being someone Satine was very familiar with who would be willing to help Satine skip going through three additional channels to request the scientists directly.

The holo flickered to life showing an amused woman with short dark curling hair and dark eyes who appeared with a smile and a dozing child in her arms. She was also in her night clothes and Satine grimaced, feeling embarrassed about not considering the time difference. It was becoming morning again for her, but Radnor would be settling into a night cycle.

"Apologies," Satine began, already reaching to shut it off. "I'll call back at a more reasonable time–"

" _ Vaar'ika _ ," Ruusaan interrupted sternly in her soft voice, making Satine pause out of habit. It was the same tone their father used to scold. "You haven't called in ages. Korkie won't wake if the sun imploded and I always have time for you."

Satine fought back the familiar feeling of guilt at the words though she knew Ruusaan didn't mean them with any condemnation. Somehow it was always worse that Ruusaan and her father just quietly accepted Satine's benign neglect of her familial duties in the face of her ambition. Bo's anger was much easier to handle and be defensive against.

"Not a runt," Satine said instead of the apologies that burned her tongue. The same response she'd been giving Ruusaan since they were children and one she knew would make her sister smile. 

Ruusaan laughed quietly and smiled, eyes moving over Satine before continuing to speak.

"I know this isn't a social visit. What's wrong?"

Satine swallowed and had to fight the urge to comfort herself by crying and spilling everything. Ruusaan, she knew, would listen without any judgement and soothe her, even as she scolded and called Satine out on her mistakes. Her gentle brutality with absolute honesty made her Satine's goto with her doubts. 

Now though she couldn't. Too much of it was tied up in secrets that Ruusaan was not technically high enough rank to hear.

"I need your help requisitioning some geneticists for Keldabe immediately. Someone creative, intelligent, and capable of keeping secrets under pain of death."

Ruusaan's only reaction was to nod and reply mildly. "A tall order for some."

Satine grimaced.

"Ah, don't worry. I can think of a few from my rounds in the hospital. A small firm, independent but making strides comes to mind. They'd be able to relocate permanently if needed and I don't doubt they'd be happy for a chance to impress someone at the Empire's center. Ambitious bunch, but thankfully moral."

Satine didn't bother to disguise the relieved slump to her shoulders. She'd suspected Ruusaan could help, a small part of her still childishly believed her big sister actually could do anything. Still at least she'd laid some groundwork. The movement did not escape Ruusaan's notice though.

"Vaar'ika," she said again. "Something is wrong."

Satine shook her head. "I can't tell you. Not yet. But I will. I promise."

Ruusaan looked doubtful.

"I promise,  _ ori'vod _ ," Satine said and instantly Ruusaan backed down, lips pursed but nodded.

"I will let it be. But you will tell me." When Ruusaan spoke there was no questioning it, but then she softened and said. " _ Vod'ika _ , let's talk about something a little lighter while I have you. Have you heard about Korkie's first steps?"

Satine had heard it in her last message from her mother, but she shook her head.

Ruusaan lit up in a way she always did when talking about her son and launched into the story, which never rose above a half-whisper. Satine listened eagerly, happy for the distraction and comfort it was to see Korkie_–the same age as some of those "decommissioned"_ _children_–was fine. 

Slowly, she relaxed and began to actually drift off at her desk, missing how Ruusaan smiled and got the attention of her droid to push her over to the office couch.

**Author's Note:**

> [ My Tumblr ](https://amillionstarsandyouchoosethisone.tumblr.com/) if anyone wants to come scream.


End file.
